


Chaos at Mungo's

by ratclanqueen (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: De-Aged Harry Potter, F/M, Fluffy, Gen, Lighthearted, Truth Serum, Work Up For Adoption, accidental magic, human to animal transfiguration, stuck together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:00:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22036717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ratclanqueen
Summary: Hermione Granger and Daphne Greengrass just wanted to finish their work and slink off home early.Too bad that between them, they're the emergency contacts for several high profile patients, all of whom were admitted within minutes of each other, all affected with some sort of accidental magic.It's never just a quiet night for these friends.
Relationships: Daphne Greengrass/Theodore Nott, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 8
Kudos: 162





	Chaos at Mungo's

"Harry, get up off the floor, for Merlin's sake," sighed Hermione Granger, rolling her amber eyes without turning to address the man on his knees in the middle of the office she shared.

The young man ignored her request and shuffled forwards, his pressed slacks making an odd scratching sound on the Persian rug as he came closer to her cluttered mahogany desk, his hands clasped in front of him in a pleading manner. "Hermione, I am _begging_ you," he stated once more.

Hermione turned her head just a fraction, tearing her gaze away from the London skyline and regarding her oldest friend with an eyebrow arched. Daphne Greengrass was beside herself, silently giggling into her teacup as she watched her two friends from her desk opposite Hermione's.

"Why on earth would I agree to this?" Hermione questioned, finally turning around to fully look at her friend. Harry Potter had apparated to her office building, demanding to see the two department co-heads citing an emergency for the lack of his appointment. He'd pushed his way past their receptionist, mumbling incoherently.

The Junior Head of the United Kingdom's Auror department was grovelling and Hermione had to bite the inside of her cheek not to crack her facade. "Kingsley's son is four Harry, not some sort of demon," she quipped, settling herself behind her desk. "I mean, Teddy is seven now Harry and you dealt with him perfectly well. They're children for Merlin's sake."

"I mean sure, not demons if we're ignoring _that_ weekend," Daphne's musical laugh bubbled around the words and Hermione mock-glared at her co-worker for bringing up the infamous weekend in which Teddy had wreaked havoc. It was still a sore subject for Harry.

Daphne's giggle turned into a full-bellied laugh as Harry jumped to his feet, words falling out of his mouth faster than anyone could comprehend. "But 'Mione, what do I do? He was four years ago! He an actual person now. I haven't had to be around a baby in years."

Hermione and just about all of their friendship group had had enough of Harry stressing about the formal charity dinner he would be speaking at, representing the junior team at the French event. He had been forcing everyone to listen to his speech (which Pansy Parkinson had rewritten nearly entirely after hearing only the first three sentences) and asking for everyone's opinion of the robes he'd had tailored for the occasion.

"I don't think you two understand the severity of the situation. Kingsley wants me to be seated with Emerson throughout the speeches," complained Harry as he rubbed his eyes from under his glasses. "What if he starts crying or screaming or something?"

"Harry, darling, Kingsley and his wife will be there too. You do know that right, you know you won't be alone with Emerson for more than a few minutes at a time," questioned Daphne when she saw the colour drain from his face. "Even if they both disappear for a length of time, just give him a spoon or something to play with," she suggested, getting up from her chair to rub his arm comfortingly.

Harry looked from one woman to the other, both of whom were nodding encouragingly. "Okay, I'll do just that then," he said determinedly, although a bit dazed.

"Good, now Harry, as much as I love you, Daph and I have got to work overtime tonight to finish this project so..." Hermione's voice trailed off as she glanced at the door, then at Harry, and then once again to the closed office door.

Harry followed her gaze and then after a few moments realised. He kissed both the girls on the cheek and then crossed the spacious office and opened the door. "Thanks again girls," he grinned, making his way into the busy hallway and disappearing into the sea of ministry workers heading for the Floo systems to get home without a backwards glance.

* * *

Draco Malfoy rolled his head from side to side, trying to ease the growing tension between his broad shoulders. The blonde wizard sighed when he heard a gentle click, feeling the discomfort subdue a little. His peaceful state of mind was punctured by a series of rapid knocks to his office door.

As he scowled at the intruder through the glass door, the delivery boy gulped loudly. Draco flicked his wrist and the glass evaporated, allowing the scared boy to enter the pristine office.

"D-delivery courtesy of the Daily Prophet for Misters M-Malfoy and Zabini," stuttered the boy, putting a small box out of his pocket and transfiguring it back to its full size. The pale pink and white striped box bore the mark of Franco's, the most popular wizarding bakery situated in Diagon Alley. Draco repressed a smile as the fragrance of baked goods filled his office.

Throwing a galleon at the boy who promptly took his exit, Draco scribbled a short note to his business partner which folded itself into a delicate paper aeroplane that zoomed out of his office in search of the wizard. He pushed his chair out and walked over to the white coffee table, gently pulling the silk ribbon lose and opening the box. Inside, nestled between layers of edible fuchsia sugar paper, was an array of the bakery's best cakes and in the middle sat his favourite of them all. The saffron and clementine macaroon was dusted with gold and tasted divine. Draco decided to forgive his burden of a business partner for agreeing to an exclusive interview with the Daily Prophet as he took a generous bite of the pastry, chewing slowly to savour the taste.

Blaise Zabini meanwhile had strolled into the office with the message in hand and had already pounced upon an angel cake, licking the sweet pink icing off of the spine before devouring the small cake in one. The duo looked at each other, Draco with an eyebrow cocked and Blaise with his drawn together. Both wizards noticed slight changes to the taste after swallowing their choices.

"Tell me the truth mate, did your taste a bit honey-like?" Blaise inquired, pushing the box away from his seated position of the sofa. Draco nodded slightly.

"Yeah, almost like sweet root or something," Draco said after some time. "No wait, it's stickier," Draco rolled his tongue around his mouth to distinguish the flavour.

"It's knotweed," Blaise's expression dropped. The pair were confident in this deduction as they co-owned the most successful British potions company and excelled at the subject, both holding masteries in potions. Knotweed was common in childhood medicines as it was used to mask the tang of most medicinal ingredients.

"Who were these from?" Blaise asked, using his wand to send a patronus calmly. "We've been slipped something."

"Merlin's balls!" Draco swore, using his foot to kick the table away. "The Prophet sent them by a delivery boy."

"I was the one who told Granger about your professor kink," Blaise said in a rush before his eyes went wide and his hand flew to his mouth.

"Theo and I were the ones who shrunk your trunk and threw it in the Black Lake in the fourth year of school," Draco said in reply.

The two men looked from one another to the box and then had a palm over their mouths to stop any more truths slipping through. Draco stood up and pulled his quill from the inkwell and hastily scribbled down a note.

_We've been slipped veritasium._

_"_ Lavender Brown is the journalist for our interview tomorrow and, and... I slept with her in our sixth year in your bed!" Blaise almost shouted as he tried to suppress the confession. "Shit!"

A knock on the glass door made the two men jump and they turned to see a confused Auror staring at the two men with their hands over their mouths. The auror looked as though he should have retired before Draco was even born and Blaise bit his cheek to reign himself in. Draco evaporated the glass and waved the man into the room.

"What's going on?" The man wheezed as he tried to catch his breath from running to the Floo at the ministry and then to the office at the two wizards' place of work. "I got an emergency call."

"It's Smeet right," Draco struggled to control himself. The man nodded wearily and looked around the office. "Well Smeet, we've been slipped a very strong truth-telling potion, home-brewed veritasium by the looks of it. I can't believe you're still an Auror Smeet, you should be in the grave right now," he couldn't help the taunting tone leak into his voice as he made a cheap dig at the elderly wizard's obvious age.

Smeet's jaw dropped at the same time Blaise's did and that is when it all went south. The two drugged wizards could no longer control the ugly truths and all manner of things came to light. Draco confessed to more childhood misdemeanours whereas Blaise's confessions were turning x-rated until Smeet cast a silencing charm on the pair. Thankfully, Smeet laughed at the situation and good-naturedly reassured the two young wizards.

"Come on, let's get you boys to Mungo's to see when this will wear off."

* * *

"Can somebody tell me why I am staring at a pig in the middle of this marque?" Pansy Parkinson's voice carried loudly around the tent and her employees all glanced around.

At only twenty-six, Pansy was younger than most of her clients but her loyal staff knew that tone and they were all on edge for the witch to unleash some of her obvious stress. Pansy had taken it upon herself to throw her best friends, Theo and Daphne, the best first wedding anniversary party that the wizarding world had ever seen.

Pansy's company, _Parkinson's Parties_ , was the most in-demand events company in Wizarding Britain and Pansy took pride in every single booking she was given. Pansy was nothing if not a perfectionist and poured her heart and soul into each party, but this one was personal and her staff were feeling the pressure.

"Do not make me repeat myself!" she warned lowly, turning on her five-inch heels to survey the large room. "Abigale, why is there a live pig in the middle of the dancefloor?"

"You said you wanted pigs as the centrepieces," stuttered a young girl who had only just graduated Hogwarts. The Greengrass-Nott party was her first official job as an intern for Pansy and she was shaking at the thought of losing her highly coveted personal assistant position, knowing there were at least thirty people waiting to take her job.

"I said _figs,_ Abigale! The bride's favourite food is figs so _they_ should be the centrepieces. Why in Merlin's name would I suggest live pigs to decorate a table?" Pansy threw her hands up in the air and glared at the girl. "Just get rid of the pig and return with some figs, f-i-g-s," she sighed, resorting to spelling the word out and waving the shaking teen away.

"Miss Parkinson," another voice broke her angry glare at the intern approaching the squealing pig. "The samples for the deserts are ready and are waiting for you and Mrs Coltrane in the dining room." The french accented wizard was Pansy's head chef and had spent weeks creating recipes to wow the witch.

"Thank you, Pierre," the witch replied and she apparated to the dining room of the manor house she was based out of. She could still see the activity and chaos of the marque on the front lawn from the dining room window so she felt relatively assured that nothing major would go wrong as night began to fall.

Mrs Coltrane acted as Pansy's housekeeper and had helped raise the girl from infancy as Mrs Parkinson retired to a villa in the Mediterranean for the majority of the year, flooing back to the manor every so often. The motherly Mrs Coltrane and her culinary opinion were held high in Pansy's regards so she had invited the older witch to sample the delicacies in hopes of finalising the menu.

"Oh Pansy dear, I wish you would slow down," she laughed good-naturedly as she entered the dining room with a tray ladened with cups and a steaming teapot. "You're too invested in this one my love."

"I know Nana, ' _you're burning yourself out at both ends_ '," Pansy replied fondly, repeating the same quip the woman always made when Pansy was in times of stress. The affectionate name made the older woman's eyes crinkle as she beamed. Mrs Coltrane allowed Pansy to push her chair out with her wand before she sat down and began pouring out two cups of herbal tea.

"I'm sure Daphne and Theo wouldn't mind if you took a backseat on this one," she reminded the girl, patting her pale hand as it reached for the teacup. "Never mind, the only time I've ever seen you drop a project was when you were in Mungo's when you were eight years old with Dragon Pox and had to stop planning that puppet show."

"Oh, I could take Hermione up on that slideshow offer, to show their Muggle photographs throughout the meal," Pansy beamed and she summoned a notepad and quill from her office deeper within the house. "I wonder if we could tailor it to include some magical pictures," she thought aloud but Pansy bit her lip at Mrs Coltrane's concerned expression. "Shall we start tasting?" she asked, in an effort to change the older woman's train of thoughts.

Mrs Coltrane nodded in agreement and pulled the closest plate towards them. As was the tradition, the two women picked up a dessert fork and took a generous piece before judging the plate on its appearance, fragrance and then finally taste, all in their little notebooks especially for this activity.

Pansy couldn't help the moan of delight as she was engulfed in a rich creamy chocolate mousse. She scored the plate before moving on to the next one once Mrs Coltrane had done the same. After ten or so minutes and eight plates, the women had narrowed down their selection. They only had a final plate to taste.

The cake looked like a raindrop, completely transparent and iridescent as it slid like jelly on the porcelain. Pansy marvelled in the artistry and magic behind its spherical shape and scooped a bite upon her fork. She had no time to smell the sample as it began to melt like water so she quickly ate the forkful. She frowned at the lack of taste before it began to tingle in her mouth and on her tongue.

"That's an interesting flavour," she commented, uneasy as the tingling sensation failed to dissolve.

Mrs Coltrane nodded slightly, writing in her notebook. "I wasn't expecting strawberry but I can never keep up with Pierre's culinary magic."

"Strawberry?" Pansy repeated but she felt the word stumble out of her mouth.

Mrs Coltrane looked at the girl and gasped, her hands going to either side of Pansy's face "What did you taste?"

"It tasted like nothing and it tingled and fizzed," she described but her speech was slow, almost as if she had downed an entire bottle of firewhiskey. In fact, her entire head was feeling as though she had been steadily drinking all afternoon.

"Pierre! I think Pansy has had a reaction to an ingredient!" the matron shouted loudly and the crack of apparition could be heard before Pierre appeared in Pansy's line of sight, even though she was seeing two of him.

"After which cake?" he pressed, pulling out his wand and sending out a patronus.

"The raindrop looking one. What was in it?"

Pierre's face dropped and he turned to the young witch. "I was following an old old recipe," he began, his hands flying as he dug around in the pocket of his apron to find a piece if partchment with the ingredients. "All of the usual stuff but I added pixie wing to make it glow."

"She's allergic to pixie products!" Mrs Coltrane shrieked. "They have a hallucinogenic effect on her, even in minuscule doses or contact."

"There were four entire wings in that sample," confessed the french man with a slight stammer that made his accent more pronounced. "Oh my god, I've killed Pansy Parkinson!"

"Don't be ridiculous man, just open up the Floo network and send everybody home," ordered Mrs Coltrane as she scooped up the giggling witch as if she were only three.

"Meet me at St Mungo's when that's done and make sure Mr Coltrane locks everywhere up after you're gone," she reminded him, heading towards the fireplace as Pierre went scurrying off to find the pseudo-matriarch's husband who was the caretaker of the manor.

"You can drop me, Minerva, the mandrake's will catch me," Pansy sighed dreamily to Mrs Coltrane as the fireplace roared to life.

"Minerva? Mandrakes? Oh, Pansy my dear girl, what are you seeing?"

* * *

The sound of a quill scratching away was all that could be heard in the Minister of Magic's private office.

His four-year-old son, an unexpectedly late but welcomed addition to his life, was playing with some building blocks, a gift from Hermione, on the rug at the base of his desk.

Kingsley couldn't see the child but could hear him chatting excitedly to the head of the Junior Auror team, Harry Potter. Shacklebolt could see tufts of unruly black hair from behind his excessively large desk so he was relatively confident that the pair were getting on just fine.

Emerson was using his blocks to make a ring around Harry's long legs which he crossed awkwardly so that the child had less space to cover.

"Ow, shit," Harry complained as the child stood on his left thigh and gripped his chin to cross to Harry's other side. "Emerson, just walk around me."

Harry had cast a muffliato so that his boss would not know if something went wrong or that the man he had entrusted to look after his highly impressionable son was swearing at the child. Harry had quickly found out that he had a dirty mouth which rivalled a sailor's when he had raised Teddy, a trait all young children seemed to bring out in him.

"No," came the stubborn, monosyllabic reply, the one word Emerson seemed to favour when in Harry's presence. "No, no, no, no," he chanted getting louder with each response.

"Emerson," Harry said the child's name the same way Molly Weasley began any of her infamous tellings off and it worked. Miraculously, the youngster pouted but stopped using the wooden block to hit Harry, instead, he sunk to his knees and moped.

Harry sighed happily and stretched his long legs out, accidently knocking down a small tower Emerson had built. The child didn't scream as Harry had expected, he simply stared him in the face.

"I'm sorry Emerson, I didn't mean to knock them down," Harry felt silly apologising when the child wasn't causing a scene, but he felt his eyes widen at the sight when he turned his head.

Emerson had Harry's wand in his pudgy little hands, a determined look upon his face. "My Daddy makes sure everybody pays for breaking laws," he told Harry who nodded and began to argue that he hadn't actually broken the law but the child continued regardless. "You will pay me," he said in a most threatening manner despite his young age and chubby cheeks.

"Shit," was the last thing a twenty-six-year-old Harry Potter said before he was de-aged. Kingsley heard the swear word as the muffliato charm had dropped, and he looked up from his partchment to see the tufts of hair disappear from view. He stood up and paled at the sight of his four-year-old son with Harry Potter's wand, pointing in the direction of a thin, black-haired child.

"No! No, no, no, no!" Little Harry said, his small frame swimming in the large Auror robes he had been wearing as an adult, the frames of his glasses slipping down his nose.

"It was an accident, promise," Emerson said, dropping the wand and running around the desk to his dad's knees.

"Okay, Emerson, you stay with Naomi and I will take Harry to St Mungo's," Kingsley thought out loud. He picked his son up by the forearms and set him on his desk chair before summoning his secretary and crouching in front of the four-year-old version of his best auror.

"Hello Harry, my name is Kingsley, can I pick you up for a second, we're going somewhere special," he introduced himself as he scooped the small child and his wand up.

"Sir, it's still me," Harry said but his voice was high and squeaky. "Merlin's balls."

Naomi the secretary entered the office and didn't look at all surprised to see a young Harry Potter, she simply waved the Minister of Magic and the four-year-old Head of the Junior Aurors through the Floo.

* * *

"I swear to Merlin Ronald!" roared Ginny Weasley and her brother couldn't help but jump at her threatening voice. The redhead looked around the Quidditch pitch, as did his teammates in search of the Holyhead Harpies player.

"Where is she?" Andrew Rowland whisper-shouted, his panic showing in his expression. The six-foot-something beater dropped a foot or so out of the air before he regained his attention to the practice the Chudley Cannon's were going through.

The captain, a dark-skinned witch named Etta Vaughn used her fingers to produce an ear splitting whistle to regain the team's attention. "Weasley!" she shouted, flying from the north hoops to the goals Ron was hovering in front of. The keeper gulped and the rest of the team looked around before flying behind Etta to make sure they could hear the conversation.

"I thought you said you'd passed on my note to the Harpies?" Etta's tone made the statement seem like a question but Ron knew not to answer her. The parchment she was talking about was tucked away at Ron and Harry's flat on their messy kitchen table kept in place by a dirty mug.

"He never got around to it it seems," called the captain of the Holyhead Harpies, Rosalind Clyne. She was stood at the base of the players tunnel with her broom slung over her shoulders. The rest of the team, reserves included, stood behind her in their full match gear and were all looking slightly pissed at the sight of the Cannon's keeper.

Etta flew back to the ground and her team followed right behind her. It was commonplace now for the Cannons, being fourth in the league, to have friendly practices with the Harpies who were second. The fact that each team had a Weasley on just made it more interesting and competitive but Etta had decided that her team needed to focus on their individual weaknesses that morning and so had written Rosalind a note which Ron had said he would deliver to Ginny.

Apparently, due to the early hour and the inconveniences of dragging your team and equipment halfway across the country, the Harpies were not too happy and it took a few minutes of tense negotiations between captains to come to some sort of agreement.

"We will play a match but then its fitness for everybody," Rosalind called and was met with a few groans of annoyance.

The match was long and took up the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon. By the time the Harpies' seeker had caught the snitch, everybody was sore and thankful to see the setting sun from the walk back to the changing rooms as the captains called off the fitness session.

"Pint at the Broomsticks on the way home?" Devin Mann called over to his team with an easy grin. The Cannons cheered at the prospect and everybody began unbuckling their gear as soon as they landed on the grass, their brooms following obediently. "Harpies?"

"Merlin yeah!" the girls replied in variations, pumping their fists and laughing as they came down from the adrenaline of winning.

"But first," Ginny shouted mischievously and she tagged her brother with the tip of her wand, making his legs dance an Irish jig against his will. "That is for making me and my team come halfway across the country for no reason!"

"Hey!" he cried out, reaching down and attempting to pull his wand out of his boot but his foot kept dancing away from his hand. He growled in frustration as Ginny began to howl with laughter. He finally gripped his wand and sent the doubled over the girl a mild jumping jinx.

The two teams watched as the siblings tried to hex and jinx each other until it escalated into a full blown war as Ginny took her annoyance out on her brother and he tried to stop her attack, but neither had been excellent at controlling themselves and the jinxes turned into harsher hexes.

Ron dove to the side just in time to miss Ginny's infamous bat-bogey hex that had doubled in ferocity as she aged. That was the final straw as both Etta and Rosalind sent a sticking charm to the siblings. The pair went sailing across the grass and crashed into each other, back to back with a groan like two magnets.

"Thank Merlin," somebody said as the siblings had stopped hexing each other in favour of separating themselves.

"Alright Rosalind, I apologise for getting carried away," Ginny apologised, still struggling to stand up and away from her brother. "You can separate us now."

"Yeah, sorry girls," Ron repeated, digging his heels into the soft turf to use as leverage so he could try and stand.

The two captains softened and both released the spell, waiting for them to spring apart but they remained stuck back to back with expectant looks on their faces.

"Shite," one of the players who had hung around to watch the outcome swore.

"What?" Ginny asked, perplexed at why the team were staring at her with wide eyes.

"I think maybe we should pay Mungo's a visit," suggested Etta carefully as she slid her wand back into her boot, looking worriedly at Rosalind.

The blonde Harpies captain nodded slowly and made her way to the siblings. "I think maybe our joining spell has reacted to one of the jinx or hexes you threw at each other earlier because we can't undo it," she explained calmly.

"WHAT!"

* * *

Diagon Alley was packed with families buying Christmas presents as Hogwarts had only just broken up for the festive holidays. Shop owners had outdone themselves this year and there were interactive displays targeted towards the young families. Groups of choirs and carolers were clustered along the cobbled street, singing seasonal songs and tunes for those who passed by.

Flourish and Blotts' window display had a roaring fire and hot chocolate given to all those who purchased a book. Madam Malkin's mannequins were dressed in fine silks and furs and they were charmed to dance to the seasonal music that was projected around the street. There was a large crowd gathered outside of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes watching the never-ending display of the products and a long, spindly queue had formed in front of a street vendor who was selling hot chestnuts and warmed butterbeer.

Luna Lovegood had her old Ravenclaw scarf wrapped tightly around her neck and her pink nose was buried in the knitting to fight against the chilly wind. One of her presents from last year, a set of earmuffs from Daphne with fur ears, were firmly wedged to her face and ears as the large parcel she was carrying rested against her shoulder and squished the earmuff to the side of her skull.

A habit instilled in her by her father, Luna had already picked and order the presents for her friends in the summer months and she had spent the majority of the morning in a tiny owlery in one of the side streets where she had asked all of the parcels to be delivered to, making sure that the gifts still lived up to her needs and that they were perfect for her friends. The most troublesome gift had been an ancient muggle novel which had arrived in two halves and had needed to be sent away to be fixed. Instead of leaving the small shop, Luna had decided to make herself comfy on the large box she had signed for and doodled in a little notebook for several hours until it was redelivered, all fixed and in a good condition despite its age.

It was around four o'clock when the witch departed from the owlery and rejoined the other shoppers on Diagon Alley. Luna had bought herself a hot chocolate and nipped into one of the pet stores to giggle at the rats undertaking a gymnastic routine to impress her.

Once she had left them to their own devices, Luna hummed a made-up tune as she navigated her way through the crowded street, feeling almost overwhelmed at all of the sights, smells, sounds and people, with the heavy box still in her arms. Ahead of her, the street had come to a standstill as a performer was wowing the crowd, causing a blockage.

Luna's pale eyebrows furrowed as she realised she couldn't pass until she saw a darker alley to the side, one she knew would lead her to the Leaky Cauldron if she followed the right path.

Nobody stopped to greet the witch as she soldiered along, quietly apologising as she bumped people to the side to get to the alley. Luna felt her hair fall into her face and between the earmuffs, the heavy box and the limited space, she realised she couldn't fix it, meaning all she could see was blocked by a wave of dirty blonde hair.

"Fiddlesticks," she muttered to herself, shaking her head to see if she could dislodge the hair but more simply fell into her eyes.

The alley Luna was walking down was as wide as she could stretch her arms and there was merchandise and displays tumbling out onto the cobbles, covered in a fine layer of snow as it began to fall. The buildings seemed to meet above her head, like two lovers leaning in for a kiss so Luna was thankful that there was little snow falling, however, the last of the winter sunlight seemed to escape the street and it was getting darker with each step.

Luna debated in her head whether she should set the box down and shrink it but she had bought too many precious and rare gifts this year for them to accidentally be destroyed somehow. Luna blushed as she remembered how many items were still minuscule from previous holidays as she could not reverse a shrinking charm on them. The witch nodded to herself decidedly and continued down the winding street, sidestepping around the shop displays as some points, knowing that any magic would ruin her presents.

Luna could still hear the carolers and the street performer entertaining the crowds on the main alley but it was relatively quiet, unlike the shouting ahead of her. Luna peered around the box and saw flashes of white and a teenagers laughter and simply shrugged her shoulders, thinking that they were just being shown a simple charm.

There were three children throwing hexes and jinx at each other, not stopping to allow another room to breathe. A worried shop owner hung out of her window above her shop front, shouting at the teens and at Luna as she walked obliviously through the middle of a trio of hexes, none of which complemented each other.

The teens scattered quickly as Luna dropped to the ground, the box still firmly in her arms. The shopkeeper shrieked and disappeared back into her shop, her cries carrying through the open window as she descended into her closed apothecary to make it onto the street.

Several other shoppers and shopkeepers alike soon made their way to the unconscious blonde, laying in the middle of the street, snow dusting her eyelashes and clothes.

"Quick, someone call for an auror, and you, follow those children!" the shopkeeper ordered the small crowd and they scattered, some casting a patronus and others rushing to get the perpetrators.

"You," demanded the witch, "is your Floo network big enough for you to carry her to Mungos?"

A stout man nodded and he bent over to scoop up Luna but the other shop owners had to rush and help him as he struggled to pick her up. Several people had a hand on Luna, two holding her torso, three gripping her long, willowy legs and the stout man resorting to cushioning her head in his hands.

"Someone bring the box along too and no magic on it, never know what's inside!"

* * *

Theodore Nott glanced at his wristwatch for what felt like the hundredth time in an hour. Because he was only a Healer-in-training, Theo was under the command of every Healer on duty and was at their beck and call. He had been summoned to the emergency ward twice in twenty minutes, the children's ward half a dozen times and the accidental curse ward whilst he was already there with the patient during in his final double shift of the year.

Theo sighed to himself as he climbed the stairs slowly, thinking back to the mug of tea that was waiting for him in the break room. Daphne had sent him out of the house the in the early hours of the previous morning with a mug that had an everlasting heat charm upon it so he was confident that it would still be steaming despite it being some twenty-two hours later.

The sun was just dropping and even from the thirteenth floor of the hospital, Theo struggled to see the sunshine as it sunk behind the skyline.

Theo hated the thirteenth floor, not because he was superstitious but because it housed the psychiatric ward and his rotation as a healer-in-training meant that he had to perform rounds on each and every floor.

Some patients were live-ins and were too far gone within their own heads to make conversation with the wizard. Others were aggressive and loud or paranoid and violent. Theo crossed the ward and pulled the curtain of his last patient of the shift, a middle-aged man with long brown hair and electric blue eyes that made Theo's skin crawl as they looked as though they could see right through him. Munn, as the patient wanted to be known, reminded Theo too much of Mad-Eye Moody and his mechanical eye and paranoia.

"Good evening doctor," was all Munn ever said during the routine examination Theo would perform each night before clocking off. It was the start and end of the wizard's conversation, but Theo had to appreciate that it was at least polite unlike some.

"Evening Munn, how's the arm?" Theo asked, knowing there would be no reply. He nodded as though the man had said something before reaching out and gently holding his right hand. A self-inflicted sore had appeared the night before and Theo wanted to make sure his healing charm had worked before he continued with the exam.

"Looking as good as new," he grinned, running the pad of his thumb over the freshly healed skin that was shiny and pink and fading more and more each hour. "I need to reapply the charm so that it doesn't leave any scar tissue alright," he notified the statuesque Munn.

Theo cast the charm but felt no effect and he scoffed to himself. Every cot on the floor had anti-magic wards around them and needed to be manually disabled by a Healer. Theo apologised to the patient and told him that the exam would take a few minutes longer as he needed to drop the ward.

Munn didn't even blink so Theo set his hand back down and went to the nurses' station with a fake flirty smile in place, hoping it would speed up the process.

"Healer Nott," simpered a young nurse who was either unaware of his marriage to a certain Slytherin witch, or was hoping to entice him away from his childhood love. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"I need to drop the ward around cot number sixteen, Mister Munn," he replied, the plastered smile still on his tired face.

"Of course Sir, I will need proof of your identification," she informed him, standing up from her chair and propping her elbow on the top of the tall desk in a way she knew would let the handsome doctor see down her scrubs.

Theo showed her his wand and flashed her his identification card, "I wouldn't expect anything less..."

"Purnell, Loral Purnell," she quickly supplied him, using her own wand to deactivate the ward. "There you go Healer Nott, and after you're done, maybe you would like to get a drink?"

"I'll think about it Nurse Purnell," was all he said as he left the desk and returned to Munn, repulsed at the thought of drinking with the nurse. "How do I tell the entire female population of this hospital that I am happily married and my wife will fight them?" he joked to the stoic patient, engrossed on casting the charm and checking the wound so he missed Munn turn his head to follow the movement of Theo's hands.

"A card," was gruff and unexpected reply which shocked the younger wizard stiff. In a split second, Munn had Theo's wand in his hand and had cast a spell which Theo was powerless to stop.

He felt his body seize and fought to control the howl of pain that was trying to escape him as his bones shrunk and reformed, a tail growing out of his back. His healer robes fell off his shrinking frame as his face shifted from human to animal.

The one thought going through the healer's mind was ' _shit_ ', as he cursed himself for keeping his wand in easy reach and not reapplying the connection charm most healers used. The charm acted like a safety bracelet so that patients couldn't snatch a wand and use it themselves. The only problem Theo found with the spell was that it had to be reapplied after contact with water and he was constantly washing his hands after each patient.

Munn jumped from his bed as the ward was still deactivated and sprinted out of the area, leaping with glee and thankfully leaving behind Theo's wand. The flirty nurse at the reception desk heard the commotion and found a giant cat with gleaming brunette fur sat on an empty cot with the wand of the cute healer she had just spoken to, in his mouth.

"Healer Nott?" she asked slowly, picking the protesting cat up and pulling the wand from its teeth.

"Put me down Nurse, I need to check myself into the accidental curses ward," came Theo's deep voice from the animal. The transfiguration spell seemed to have worked successfully on his body, but he still had his normally deep voice and his eyes were still human, showing how pissed off he was.

"Sir, I think I should carry you, or at least put you in something, a patronus just came around, there's been a number of high profile accidents so it's chaos out there," she told him, biting her lip to stop the giggle.

"Fine, just make sure you don't drop my wand, and pick up my robes," Theo grumbled as the nurse began to walk to the accidental magic ward.

* * *

Hermione stretched her arms above her head, a yawn escaping as she tried to renew her energy levels.

The two women were working overtime in order to begin their Christmas holidays early and since they were the co-heads of the department, they were setting the pace.

Ever the perfectionist, Daphne had her case notes written by a Quick Quill and was just reading them through to ensure all of the notes were in order before they were sent off to be reviewed.

"I am shattered," Hermione stifled another yawn in the sleeve of her jumper and Daphne laughed delicately.

"Teaches you to have Draco round when we have been staying at work late. How much sleep have you lost because he stayed the night," she sassed, using her wand to file the notes without getting up from her desk.

"Says you, ever since you got married I doubt you've had a peaceful, sex-free night," Hermione chuckled.

"Yeah, but it was like that when we were seventeen, so this is just us enjoying ourselves," Daphne agreed with a smirk, moving her left hand so that her engagement ring and wedding band sparkled in the light of the fire. "I miss him."

"I envy you," was all Hermione said, turning back to her work with a smile. "You'll get to see him tonight but Draco won't be free enough until the weekend. He's got an interview with Lavender Brown tomorrow morning," she told Daphne with a slight trace of disgust.

The blonde laughed again and began rearranging the loose paperwork on her desk. "She has a thing for your men doesn't she."

"Oh please, as if Ronald was ever _my man_ ," Hermione looked at Daphne and the two witches broke into peals of laughter.

"You're right I cannot imagine you without Draco now, it's simply impossible. It's like Ginny without the Harpies or Harry without the unfortunate hair," Daphne joked.

"Blaise without the impulse to flirt or Pansy without her lipstick," Hermione supplied.

Daphne thought for a moment before continuing, "Luna without the fantasy animals or my Theodore without the inability to hear his own damn alarm in the morning. I swear to Merlin that wizard is going to end up sleeping through his final exams and never become a full-fledged healer."

Hermione leant back in her chair and tucked her feet under her. She twirled a loose lock of hair around her finger, nodding at all of the examples of their friends.

"It's sweet how you say _my Theodore,_ " she told the other witch who scoffed and turned her chair to face her.

"I do not!"

"You do and you just did," Hermione told her, turning her chair so that she was mimicking the position. "You two are the most in-love couple I have ever encountered, he could be a cockroach and you would still adore him."

"An actual cockroach or just a metaphorical cockroach in the sense of personality?"

"Either, but I can imagine you carting him around in a jam jar and still fawning over everything he did."

The two girls laughed as they pictured it but were interrupted by a Floo call. Hermione allowed the call to connect and frowned when a Senior Healer in the Mungo's robes stepped out of the fireplace, a worried look on his face.

"Hello, I am Healer Balking, I need you to come with me," was all he said before urgently gesturing back to the green flames with a panic-stricken face and bulging eyes.

Hermione and Daphne both pointed to themselves and parroted "me?" to which Healer Balking nodded once more, wringing his fingers until his knuckles turned white.

"Now, please, if you don't mind," he said tersely through gritted teeth with obvious beads of perspiration rolling down his forehead and the two girls jumped to action.

* * *

The Floo hall of the hospital was packed with people, some with injuries themselves, others to see loved ones and then in the corner, spearheading a group through the main reception of the hospital, was a pack of reporters from multiple platforms, all barking over one another and the occasional flash of smoke pluming from the centre of the herd as a camera went off.

Lavender Brown, a junior writer for the _Daily Prophet_ followed Ronson Dyer of the _Scottish Press_ as he pushed through the crowd. She gnawed on her lower lip as she listened to him repeating his tip-off.

"Yeah, said that Potter and the trio were all here. The Weasley girl and her flatmates, the one that runs the Quibbler and that Slytherin girl too. All of 'em are here," he boasted the information about loudly.

"What about Malfoy and that lot? Anything about him?" Lucille Tyler from _Witch Weekly_ asked him. "Our readers love that crowd."

"Yeah, my source said that both Malfoy and Zabini had been slipped an extremely powerful but faulty potion, not entirely sure what but we need to find out who sent it to them," Ronson replied as he continued to fight the crowd of people to make it to the stairs.

"Aren't they doing an interview with the Prophet soon?" another reporter asked.

Lavender couldn't help herself, "I have an exclusive interview with the pair tomorrow morning."

Ronson scoffed as he looked at his notes and then to Lavender. "Not at this rate, my source said they're knocking on death's door." He checked his watch and then began to lead the press-gang through the back of the hospital to the ward he thought the patients were on.

Lavender hung back, horrified. She knew exactly what the two wizards had been slipped as she had brewed it especially for them in an attempt to receive more candid and exclusive answers in the interview. She had never been good at potions but she never intended to kill the two men.

"What have I done," she whispered to herself worriedly, glancing up the stairs to watch the hungry gang of reporters hunt the wizards down.

* * *

Hermione stepped out of the fireplace and as soon as her feet touched solid ground, a nurse had her arm and was pulling her out of Healer Balking's office.

"Slow down," she told the woman, pulling in vain at her grip. "You're hurting me!"

"Good job you're in a hospital then isn't it," was all the woman said, still pulling Hermione along with the same tight grip. "You are urgently needed and apparation in the wards is not allowed."

Daphne was right behind her, complaining loudly about being dragged around but Hermione could see her anxiety on her face.

"Who is even here? What's happened?"

Hermione echoed her questions as the girls were lead to a private wing, aurors and hospital security based outside of the double door entrance.

"Listen, between the pair of you, you are the emergency contact for every patient in this room. Misters Malfoy and Zabini are under the effect of a very strong but faulty truth-telling potion," the nurse ignored Hermione's gasp and continued. "Ron and Ginny Weasley were also admitted just over an hour ago. The strange thing is they all got admitted within five minutes," the nurse chuckled.

"Is it just those four?" Daphne asked quietly, gripping Hermione's hand so hard her knuckles were white.

"Oh, no sweetheart sorry. Mr Nott, Miss Parkinson and Miss Lovegood all arrived shortly after the Weasleys."

Hermione's eyes were wide and Daphne squeaked. "Can we see them? What happened? Was anyone else hurt?" Hermione asked rapidly as the nurse used her wand to open the door to the private suite.

"Mr Potter is also in a spot of bother," the nurse said and she pushed the double door open and Hermione took in the loud commotion of the small room that had been obviously magically extended to accommodate the number of high-profile patients.

"What in Merlin's name happened?"

* * *

_One hour earlier_

Draco Malfoy had his arms crossed and a large scowl on his face as he watched the old Auror try to explain the bizarre situation.

Smeet was guessing the details as a healer took notes, sceptical as both Blaise and Draco were silently waiting behind him, each stood with their arms crossed and scowls on their faces.

"And so they can't stop telling the truth?" the healer repeated slowly, one eyebrow raised until Smeet undid the silencing charm and Blaise unleashed a slew of dark truths which came out at such a volume, Draco's own confessions were masked.

The healer blinked a few times, close to tears at Blaise's harsh words and simply said "I see," as he summoned a more experienced healer and Smeet replaced the silencing charm.

As they waited in the reception area, what seemed like the entire Holyhead Harpies and Chudley Cannons Quidditch teams came through from the apparation and floo room, all shouting and talking as the two captains made their way to the front desk.

Blaise and Draco shared a look as Etta Vaughn cleared her throat for the attention of the young healer that had dealt with Smeet's issue.

"Yes?" he inquired, seemingly unfazed at the appearance of so many professional sports players.

"Two of my players were magically stuck together and now we cannot separate them," Etta told him, turning around to the teams and motioning for them to part, revealing Ron and Ginny, still struggling against each other in vain to try and place some distance between them.

Draco by this point was doubled over, laughing silently as Blaise clapped loudly, alerting the siblings to their presence.

"What are you two doing here?" Ron asked and before Smeet could explain, a crowd of people, shopkeepers by the looks of them, fell through one of the fireplaces cradling a woman. A witch was shouting for assistance and when she spotted Ginny, she pushed a man with a large box in the redhead's direction.

The wizard gently placed the box at Ginny's feet, explaining that it was the witch's.

"Luna? What happened!" Ginny cried, momentarily forgetting she was burdened with her brother and she lost her footing, bringing both her brother and Blaise down as he was clapping Ron's back.

"We need some assistance here!" a healer shouted and soon the five were being whisked away to a private suite, however, before they could leave the reception area, another nurse came flying around the corner with a cat clutched in her arms, claiming hysterically that it was Theodore Nott and that a patient had escaped.

Blaise mimed twirling his forefinger against his forehead, making Draco chuckled silently until the voice of their friend carried over the reception area.

"Knock it off Blaise," said Theo from the body of the cat.

"Theo?"

"Weasley?"

"Luna?"

"Ginny? What are you doing here?" Luna asked sleepily before she closed her eyes once more.

"A healer quickly!" another loud voice broke their concentration and if Draco could have, he would have audibly sighed at the sight of Pansy in her housekeeper's arms.

"Drake!" Pansy shrieked but her eyes were glassy and unfocused.

Blaise was trying to stand up from the gurney he had been pushed on to make his way to his friend but the matron, Mrs Coltrane, simply settled the young witch on the same gurney, hurriedly explaining the predicament.

"Just need Harry and the girls and it's a full house," Theo said dryly. "Speak of the devil," he laughed, pouncing from the nurse's arms and onto Draco's gurney. As soon as he had finished speaking, Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared with a small child closely resembling Harry, shouting for a healer.

"Sweet Circe, Harry!" Ginny cried and the Minister placed the child in Ginny's arm on the gurney she was sharing with her brother who was still staring at the cat with wide, panicked eyes. The minister took a quick look at the other patients before trying to grab the young healer by the front of his robes so that he would listen closely.

The commotion in the reception doubled as everybody tried to explain what had happened to the lone healer who manned the desk. The noise was ear-splitting as he tried to manoeuvre Luna onto a gurney whilst calling for help himself and dodging the grabs of the Minister of Magic.

Suddenly a shot of golden sparks rained down over everybody, effectively shutting them up. A team of senior healers was stood at the foot of a set of stairs, with Healer Balking at the front, lowering his wand.

"Get them up to the seventh floor, place them all in one suite and then we shall deal with them one at a time. Thank you for your help but if everyone could drop any charms the injured have upon them," he called and Smeet warily followed the instruction.

Before the gurneys had even made it to the elevator, Blaise and Draco were cringing as their mouths ran away from them, some harsh truths being delivered now that they were in the company of their friends.

"Merlin's beard," Balking said quietly to himself before he and the rest of his team followed the group to the seventh floor.

* * *

Draco absentmindedly ran a hand through the cat's fur, forgetting entirely that it was not actually a cat but his best friend of nearly two decades. Theo didn't seem to mind and he was content to just sit in Draco's lap as the pair watched the senior healers devise a strategy since Theo knew the ins and outs of medicine and Draco seemed to be able to say things quietly, unlike Blaise who was almost shouting every obscene truth that slipped from his mouth.

"I once watched Weasley throw up, snog Lavender Brown, heave all over her shoes and then snog the living daylights out of one of the Patil twins," Blaise told the healers and Ron's face turned every shade of maroon in the space of two seconds.

"When I get unstuck I am going to murder you Zabini," he seethed, placing his hands on Ginny's head and pushing her away, much to his sister's distaste.

"When I get unstuck I will murder you Ronald!" she swore, elbowing him in response until he groaned and stopped shoving her.

This was met with peals of laughter from the cot beside Draco. Both Luna and Pansy were still hallucinating, the latter was the only one conscious, however. Pansy had been placed on Blaise's gurney and she was laying directly on top of him, completely boneless as she giggled.

"Can somebody please assess Pansy," Theo called out, his tail twitching in the air as Pansy's eyes slid in and out of focus. Blaise gently tapped her cheek to try and get Pansy to look at him but she simply bit down on the finger until he pulled away sharply.

"Oi, dickhead," Ginny shouted, eventually getting every single one of the healer's attention. "I don't know what taking so long but I'm fairly confident that if you wait any longer there will be side effects and consequences to all the magic."

The healers all looked to Healer Balking and then to the furious Harpies player. Balking nodded and the healers dispersed into twos, taking one patient each and running diagnostic spells and other basic incantations.

"Sir, Mister Nott seems to be fine," a young man said to which Theo replied "oh yeah, did I forget to mention that I love being a cat. Am always one on the weekends so this is no different."

"Send a memo to the accidental magic department, we need Healer MacIntosh to come and sort that out," Balking ordered, making a note of Theo's progress on a scroll that appeared out of thin air.

"Sir, Miss Lovegood's internally fighting off three separate strains of the same jinx, that's why she is unconscious," another Healer said, pocketing her wand and rooting through a bedside cabinet for a potion bottle. "I recommend a Malarkey potion to help aide her and then a pepper-up potion once she awakes."

"Excellent," Balking said, jotting down the diagnosis on her chart. "Anyone else?"

"There seems to be two highly reactive sticking charms on the siblings, sir, it should be attacked from both sides," another healer assessed the Weasleys who were glaring at the young man.

"Any word about the emergency contacts yet?" Balking asked as the double doors to the suite opened and revealed Hermione and Daphne with the nurse.

"What in Merlin's name happened?" Hermione shrieked as she ran to the closest gurney and gripped Draco's head in her hands so she could look at his face.

"I'm fine Hermione," he whispered and then bit down on his lip to stop anything else slipping out.

"Merlin Draco. Where's Theo?" Daphne asked, almost hysterical as she looked around the room and at all of the healers scurrying around.

"I'm here Daphne, a healer is coming to reverse the spell soon," the cat said and Daphne looked as if she going to faint so Draco reached out and gripped her arms.

"Nice to know we're all as important as those two," Ron grumbled as a healer poked around where he was attached to Ginny.

"Merlin's beard. Somebody needs to tell me what happened right now or I swear," Hermione threatened, holding her wand out and brandishing it at the young healers in the room.

"Miss Granger, if you will allow me to explain," Balking lead the two girls and Theo who was in Daphne's arms, to the centre of the room so he could point to every cot with ease.

"Misters Malfoy and Zabini have been slipped a very powerful but faulty truth-telling potion and are reacting quite strongly to it. Zabini is currently under a silencing charm as his outbursts are quite harsh. Malfoy, on the other hand, is simply staying quiet of his own accord. An antidote is being brewed as we speak." He pointed to both patients as he told the girls.

"Why is Pansy on top of Blaise?" Daphne questioned.

"Well as you are probably aware, Miss Parkinson is highly allergic to pixie products and she accidentally ingested four wings so the hallucinogenic properties of her allergy are overwhelming and an antidote is also being brewed as these are very rare problems for the hospital," Balking continued.

"Miss Lovegood walked through a duel and is internally battling three stands of the same spell so she had been treated with a Malarkey potion and is recovering now."

"The Weasleys are stuck together due to two sticking charms that reacted to the defensive magic they had been casting only moments before. We are working to separate them."

"And Harry?" Hermione could plainly make out her best friend's features, even as a four-year-old version on himself.

"Ah, well, it was a case of accidental magic performed by a child and so we are trying to find the right balance of magic to reverse the spell. If you would like to talk to him he has retained his adult mind so this is a slightly traumatic experience," Balking told them.

"Traumatic! They're _all_ in some sort of traumatic state. My husband is a bloody cat!" Daphne cried and she held out Theo from under his front legs to wave him in the Senior Healer's face.

Theo managed to convey his annoyance through the animal's face and he looked completely done with the situation. "He knows Daph, please put me down."

"What if someone thinks you're an actual cat and takes you though?" she protested, squashing the cat to her chest with a wobbling lower lip.

"Daphne," Theo began to Daphne wasn't listening as she watched the healers who had managed to separate the squabbling siblings albeit by four feet.

"I am going to skin you alive Ronald," Ginny hissed but the pair had jumped from the gurney and were pushing on the connection as the healers tackled it from a different angle.

"Wait, did you say Harry is still twenty-six in his mind," Hermione questioned the healer, turning to look at her best friend.

"Just come over here woman, leave the poor man alone," the four-year-old Harry replied and Hermione had to pinch herself to make sure she was actually awake and not experiencing a fever dream of some kind.

"Right," she said slowly, pointing to him and then to Theo in cat form. "Sorry."

"Bit overwhelming, I know," Harry told her as she set herself on the corner of his cot, reaching out to take Draco's hand as she looked around the room to all of her friends. "Its a story for the grandkids though."

"Harry," Hermione groaned. "This is ridiculous."

Harry looked down at himself and then at Hermione. She wanted to reach out and squeeze his cheeks or wrap him in a bone-breaking hug. He looked so young and vulnerable. He must have been able to read her mind as his eyebrows drew together and he scowled.

"I'm fine Hermione."

"You're four," she replied. "And someone tried to poison Draco and Blaise."

Draco squeezed her fingers to get her attention. He shook his head and then grinned, still opting to keep his mouth closed rather than spill his darkest secrets and desires, unlike Blaise.

"How were you dosed?" she asked, reaching out for his cot and rolling it closer to Harry's.

"Lavender Brown. Blaise slept with her in our sixth year," he whispered, not feeling as guilty about spilling his best friend's secrets.


End file.
